(sometimes it gets so hard to hide it well)
by your candy perfume girl
Summary: As she writhes beneath him, Regina begins to think that she could be happy like this, that they could be happy together. Maybe they can heal her broken heart together and restore her ability to dream, to love, so that neither of them ever has to feel lonely again. The source of Regina and Rumplestiltskin's feud revealed. Spoilers through 2x02 "We Are Both". Warning: marital rape.


**Disclaimer** — _Once Upon a Time_ is the property of ABC and Horowitz/Kitsis. The title of this fic is ripped shamelessly from "Live to Tell" by Madonna. I make no profit, monetary or otherwise, from this exercise in creativity.

**Author's Note** — I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this fic, but I wanted to make sure that I got it out there before "The Doctor" inevitably Josses it, so do let me know what you think, please?

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She doesn't love him; Daniel's death occupies too large a hole in a heart for her to ever believe otherwise. But when Rumplestiltskin's hands trail down her cheeks, past her clavicle and lower still, she can't quite bring herself to stop him. Perhaps it's because her mother always spent such an inordinate amount of time warning her about the desires of men and the lengths that they will go to sate them, punctuating her lessons on the importance of purity with more than a little magical torment, that Regina just closes her eyes and gives in to the need coiling hot in the pit of her belly.

She is free now; there is no one here to stop her, no one to tell her that this is not how a lady behaves.

More than anything, though, Regina relishes how wonderful it is to be _wanted_. She has been both a disappointment as a daughter and a king's second choice for a wife, but Rumplestiltskin chose _her_ specifically to teach the ways of magic. He saw something special in her — something _innate_, not something created by her mother's incessant schemes — when she was just a baby, and he's wanted her ever since. If Regina stops to think about it too much, she can't deny that it's a bit creepy, but she cannot deny either how utterly exhilarating it is to be the object of such fervent devotion. It makes her feel drunk, powerful, _safe_.

So when he pulls her body flush against his, pushing his tongue into her mouth as his hand slides beneath the waistband of her trousers, Regina doesn't allow herself to dwell on the fact that he tastes kind of foul, or that his fingernails are sharp and dirty. Instead, she follows his lead, allowing him to initiate her into the once-forbidden world of friction and lust. His fingers tug impatiently at the buttons on her vest, and she shrugs out of it; he pushes her over towards the bed, and she reclines on her back, eagerly guiding him atop of her; his hand cups her breast, tugging at her nipple, and she moans and arches against him in a way that makes his eyes grow darker and his lips curve upward in a dangerous grin.

When he finally pushes inside of her, it hurts less than she had expected. There is hot pressure as he bears down on her, and then a long twinge as her body stretches to accommodate him, but none of it bothers her too much; in all her life, Regina has never known pleasure to exist without a little bit of pain, too. Rumplestiltskin's hands grip her hips firmly, and he slowly starts to show her how to match his rhythm, how to rock and thrust so that his pelvic bone hits this spot between her thighs that makes her forget all of the hurt and anger of the past several weeks. Her discomfort slowly transforms into an aching sort of pleasure that demands _more_, _**now**_, and as she writhes beneath him, Regina begins to think that she could be happy like this, that they could be happy together. Maybe they can heal her broken heart together and restore her ability to dream, to _love_, so that neither of them ever has to feel lonely again.

The next morning, Regina wakes to find Rumplestiltskin gone and the soreness that still lingered between her legs when she drifted to sleep last night strangely absent. Her pulse pounds heavily in her ears as she rolls out of bed and fishes her trousers out from beneath a table. Scanning the room next for her vest, Regina tells herself that everything is okay, that he's just gone outside for some fresh air, or to get breakfast, and that she'll join him once she finds the rest of her clothes.

But Regina has only just straightened her robe on her shoulders when Leopold's men burst into the room, swords drawn, ready to rescue their king's betrothed. There are at least half a dozen soldiers, and while Rumplestiltskin has taught her some magic already, she is not nearly powerful enough to escape this battle; the best that she could do would be to perhaps levitate a book at one while the other five run her through. So, with her heart still hammering wildly against her ribs and dread swirling sickeningly in her stomach, Regina agrees to leave with them. She rides in the royal carriage, watching out the window as the castle she fought so hard to escape grows larger in the distance, and tries to soothe herself with the knowledge that Rumplestiltskin promised to help her, that he _wants _her, and that King Leopold is beloved by all the kingdom for his kind and fair heart. Her mother is gone now; there are no more obstacles to her freedom.

At least, this is what Regina fervently hopes as she explains to the king that she cannot marry him because she is not in love with him. Leopold's eyes narrow as she finishes speaking, and his voice becomes deceptively soft as he steps toward her. "But my child, you have already accepted my proposal. You and your parents have lived in my palace at my invitation for more than a month now. You have allowed my daughter to love you as a mother. It would seem that you are now indebted to me."

Regina swallows thickly. "But there is no love between us, Your Majesty. Surely the chance at finding true happiness is enough to settle that debt?"

Leopold smiles sadly.

A week later, Regina is his queen.

She is receiving gifts at their wedding reception, seated atop the throne she never wanted at the side of the husband who bought her like one buys a horse, when Rumplestiltskin appears. He deposits a basket overflowing with yards of golden silk in front of them before sweeping into an elaborate bow, and for the first time in a week, hope springs to life in Regina's chest. She can taste freedom on the tip of her tongue.

But Rumplestiltskin refuses to look at her, instead engaging Leopold in a pleasant, if not awkward, conversation about the gold he's spun and the state of the kingdom's finances. Regina waits anxiously, expecting at any moment some sign or motion designed to inform her of the plan to escape, but there is nothing. Eventually, Rumplestiltskin finally turns to face her, and when he does, his smile is cold and cruel, his eyes full of mirth. "And such a lovely bride you've chosen for yourself, King Leopold!" He takes Regina's hand and presses a hot kiss to the back of it that sends shivers up her spine. There is a momentary flash of something soft in his eyes before he snickers, "My congratulations to you, Your Majesty."

Regina's stomach drops, and she gasps for breath as she grasps at his hand. "_Please,_" she whispers, but he vanishes in a swirl of purple smoke, taking the tattered remnants of her only surviving dream with him.

That night, after her ladies-in-waiting have primped and plucked and painted her until she resembles a porcelain doll, Leopold stumbles drunkenly into her bedchamber, ready to discover if his new wife is worth the price that he paid for her. He rips her white lace nightgown in his eagerness to lose himself in the pleasures of her flesh, and when he thrusts into her, it hurts a thousand times worse than it did with Rumplestiltskin. It feels like he's going to tear her in half, and even though her tears turn into sobs when he begins to roughly rut atop her, he never offers her a word of an apology, nor a gentle touch, nor even a kind look. He just pounds away inside of her for so long that it feels like the rest of her life has been merely an illusion, that all there has ever been is the stinging slap of his hips against her thighs and the name that he groans endlessly in her ear.

The next morning, Regina is in too much pain to leave her bed, so her father comes to her, gathering her into his arms and allowing her to bury her face in his chest and weep. They do not have much time together now that Leopold has forced Henry into servitude in retaliation for his daughter's disappearance, so Regina cries quickly and fiercely for all that she has lost. She sheds tears for the freedom ripped away from her, and for the stirrings of power within her that will now never realize their true potential. More tears fall for the loss of her mother, who surely would have had a spell to ease Regina's discomfort, or some terrible pearl of wisdom to make this life more tolerable. She's betrayed the woman who gave her life, who nourished and bore her with her own body, and it's all been for naught; Regina is still queen, just as Cora had always planned.

Regina sobs the hardest, though, for the fact that her mother had been right all along: about men and the unforgivable things that they will do for their own pleasure; and about herself, about how truly weak and foolish she has proven to be.

In time, though, after too many stifling days in Leopold's court and agonizing nights in his bed to count, Regina learns how to transform her despair into anger, her anger into hatred, and her hatred into power. Within less than a decade, she sits alone upon the throne, and her traitorous stepdaughter is her prey; there is no woman in the Enchanted Forest more free and in control than Queen Regina. And yet, if she stops to consider it too much, she has to admit that this freedom tastes far more bitter and heavy than did those beautiful moments after she banished her mother, when she rode away from the palace a free woman, full of hope for the future. The happiness that she had expected to seep into her bones and fill her heart once she seized back power over her life is strangely absent, so she focuses all of her attention on capturing Snow White; this, surely, will at last ease her pain.

But sometimes, in her darkest moments, when she cannot bear the sight of her own reflection, and despair rushes back to crush all hope of ever being happy again, Regina stands before her mirror and watches Rumplestiltskin spin alone in his grand, empty home. As it turns out, misery does find comfort in company. His loneliness gives her the strength to chase away the despair from her mind and believe in the possibility of a happy ending again, because it is _he_ who is the broken one. Every terrible thing that he's done to her has been about his own psychological shortcomings; none of it has anything to do with _her_. Happiness is not out of her reach.

Some time later, Regina is surprised to peer into her mirror and see not the darkness of a drape thrown over a full-length looking glass, but instead a blurry image from the reflection of a newly uncovered window in the Dark Castle. It's of Rumplestiltskin, and he's holding in a bridal carry a pretty brunette whose face is as youthful and hopeful as Regina's used to be, so many terrible years ago. The girl looks at him with eyes that hold a world of yearning, of perhaps even love, and something in the pit of Regina's stomach sours. After Rumplestiltskin's betrayal, it took her close to a year to pick herself up and rejoin the battle for her freedom. She knows now how foolish it is to care for the well-being of others, but Regina cannot let Rumplestiltskin win again. Before, she was too naïve and trusting to outsmart him, but she is stronger now. She can win.

The girl, when Regina meets her, is cautious, but the love and hope that she bears shine through her apprehension like a beacon through the evening sea fog. It's all so familiar, and it nauseates Regina to be so vividly reminded of her own past weaknesses, but she gives the girl the greatest weapon in her arsenal against Rumplestiltskin anyway — knowledge of the power of true love's kiss. It will never work on him, of course, but the mere threat to his power will put an end to this game that he's playing. Justice has long demanded that Regina have her vengeance against Rumplestiltskin, and it soothes the wounds that he left on her heart, the ones that have never quite healed, to know that the process has begun.

So when Regina stands before her mirror that evening, her face mere inches from the surface as she watches Belle's kiss break the Dark One's curse, she is too stunned to even pretend that the tears that well up in her eyes have any other source. Before she can choke it back, a sob tears loose from her throat, followed by more still. Tears stream down her face as she wails, and she can't breathe, can't stop, because her most terrible fear, the one that she has kept buried in the depths of her barren heart for the duration of her life, has just been confirmed true.

The betrayal, the abandonment, had nothing to do with Rumplestiltskin being incapable of love.

It is Regina who is unlovable.


End file.
